


Be Nice to Me

by The_front_bottoms



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Comfort, Depression, Drinking, F/M, Hurt, M/M, PTSD, Saddness, Smoking, richie protects the losers at all cost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-17 04:48:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20615246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_front_bottoms/pseuds/The_front_bottoms
Summary: 6 times Richie helped the Losers and the 1 time they returned the favor.





	1. Chapter 1: Stan

Chapter 1: Stan

Stan and Richie walked side by side, Beverly not far behind. Richie was cracking jokes, per usual, trying to ease any anxiety or tension the group would normally feel approaching school. IT had attacked months ago but it changed everyone within the club. Stan had insecurities pertaining to the scars covering the sides of his face. The marks were healing slowly, way too slow for it to be normal.  
“God, no one is going to want to date him. Someone is just going to have to take one for the team.” Greta Bowie’s nauseating voice filled the hallway. “I mean, those scars are as ugly as it gets. Makes him look like even more of a freak.” Richie saw the tear beginning to form is Stan’s eyes, knowing Greta was talking about him.  
“Don’t worry, Stan, scars are hot to most girls. Greta’s just jealous she can’t bang you because you have standards.” Richie tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but by the look on Stan’s face, Richie realized he probably made it worse.  
“Richie, just shut the fuck up. Look at me. I’m the weird looking Jew with scars. I’m so ugly, they’re right. No one will ever want to be with me. And it’s all that stupid fucking clowns fault.” Richie felt guilt building in the pit of his stomach. Stan’s eyes leaked more tears as he brought his hands to his face in an attempt to hide the scars.   
‘Yeah, asshole, this wouldn’t have happened if you were paying attention to him in that damn sewer.’ Richie’s thoughts snapped at him, eating at him slowly.   
“One moment.” Richie mumbled to Stan as he ran off. Stan turned toward Beverly with a sad look crossing his face.   
“Do they look that bad?” Stan question, keeping his eyes trained on the floor, refusing to look up and meet the face of a pity filled Beverly. Beverly brought her hand up, placing it against the scars softly. Stan flinched away from her hand.  
“I know you’re lying, but that’s okay. Do you think everyone’s looking at me?” Beverly looked slightly behind Stan, eyes trained away from Stan.   
“No, I think they’ll be busy staring at Richie.” Stan whipped around, seeing Richie with bright colored ribbons in his hand, making lots of tiny ponytails in his long dark hair. There was paint and markers streaking his face with vibrant colors. He walked confidently, with a big smile on his face.  
“Nice outfit, freak.” An older boy said, shoving his shoulder into Richie’s.  
“Thanks, your mom thought it was hot last night.” came Richie’s cheeky reply. Everyone was looking at him, pointing and whispering about him. Beverly could see what he was doing.  
“Thank you, Richie. That really means a lot.” Stan whispered.   
“Oh Staniel, why ever are you thanking me?” Richie said, throwing a wink in Stan’s direction. He smiled as he threw his hand up, waving bye to Bev and Stan. As Stan waved back, he couldn’t help but notice the circular burn marks lining his hand and wrist.  
“Probably just a Trashmouth thing.” Stan mumbled, turning and heading to class.


	2. Chapter 2: Ben

Chapter 2: Ben

Richie started at where Ben stood, nervously glancing at the library doors. It had been a year since the incident in the library. Ben was still scared to even approach the steps, but Richie knew Ben missed his place of refuge.  
“Richie, I think this is a bad idea.” Ben’s nervous voice floated towards Richie. Turning to face Ben, Richie was met with Ben’s pale face.  
“Haystack, I really need help with English. The test is Friday.” Richie said, giving Ben an arched brow.  
“Then let’s do it another time.” Ben tried.  
“No can do, Benny Boy, I am reserved for the rest of the week by your mother. Such a needy lady.” Richie threw a seductive wink towards Ben, “Plus, I don’t want to fail. You’re the only person I can really rely on with this. Please.” Ben took in a deep breath and walked towards the doors stiffly.  
“Okay, I can do this. I can do this.” Ben kept reassuring himself, reminding himself that he was strong.  
“Wow! This place is boring!” Richie exclaimed, making everyone in the library turn to glare at him. The librarian shushed him loudly, and Richie raised his hands up in a sheepish manner. Once she turned, Richie stuck up his middle finger. Ben chuckled a bit, finding it a lot easier to approach the library with someone like Richie there.  
“Oy, Benny Boy, it isn’t funny.” Richie said, pouting slightly at him, making Ben laugh a little more. Ben was slowly beginning to feel more confident and comfortable within the library.  
“So, what exactly do you need help with?” Ben’s questioned was met with a small shrug, “Richie.” Ben groaned.  
“Hey man, English is boring.” Richie lied. He was doing fine in English with a perfect grade. He just wanted to help Ben become more comfortable.  
“Well, can you describe what you’re talking about?” Ben said, giving Richie a moment to think.  
“Shakespeare. Hamlet, I think.” Ben grins wildly at this, excited over Richie’s answer.  
“That is such a good play. It is one of my favorit-“  
“Don’t nut now, Haystack, it is just Shakespeare.” Ben laughed at Richie’s interruption and nodded at his words, getting up and looking for the play.  
Two hours later, Ben had explained Hamlet and made Richie a “study sheet” about the ins and outs of the play. He knew just about everything about this play, making Richie somewhat happy to have gotten Ben to get excited about something.  
“Hey man, thanks again for the help, Ben.” Richie said, leaning in to give Ben a hug.  
“It is no problem, Rich.” Ben’s hands wrapped around Richie’s torso and, to Ben’s horror, Richie felt smaller that normal. Ben swore he could feel the hard pressure of bone. But, just as quickly as Ben came to this conclusion, Richie pulled away and waved. Ben watched him run down the street towards his home. Ben shook his head and waved back, certain it was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3: Mike

Chapter 3: Mike  
Mike didn’t like being alone. Ever since meeting the losers, he wanted to be with them more. Sadly, due to him being homeschooled, Mike spent a lot of time alone on the farm.  
Mike hated the farm. He loved the animals but he would eventually have to kill them with the same weapon that almost killed him. His hands would shake and fear would clench his heart every time he touched the metallic weapon. He knew what the animals felt like, being trapped with no way to escape death. He got lucky.  
Richie could see how Mike seemed so sad, lonely. He saw Mike’s hesitance to return to his farm after any hang out the losers had. Which is why, today, Richie would be skipping school to visit Mike and all his animals.  
Once there, Richie began to approach the double doors of the big red barn. He heard a mixture of yelling and sobbing.  
“Mike, it’s your fucking job. Just do it. It isn’t that hard. Just do it.” Richie made out the voice of Mike’s grandfather yelling at him.  
“I can’t.” Mike choked out through a sob.  
“Well, either do it or I’ll do it to you.” The threat was empty, just a ploy to scare Mike, Richie knew that. After a moment of hesitance, Richie heard the sound of the weapon firing.  
“Thank god.” Mike’s grandfather said, sounding as if he was leaving. Mike’s sobs seemed to increase. Richie quickly ran in, seeing Mike on the ground with his head in his hands and the weapon about 2 feet next to him. The sheep layer dead in the pen.  
“Hey, Mikey.” Richie said, startling Mike.  
“Hey Richie. Aren’t you suppose to be in school right now?” Mike questioned as he quickly tried to wipe tears off his face.  
“I figured that I would come see my good old buddy, Farmer Mike.” Richie said, trying to make Mike smile. It didn’t work. “Come here, Mike.” Richie mumbled, pulling him in for a hug from his position on the ground. “No matter what Mike, you’ll always have the losers. It is only a matter of time because we all get out of this hellhole. I promise Mike. If you ever need someone, the losers are right there. And if you ever need to leave this place for a bit, call me. I don’t care if I have to skip or what, I’ll come hang out with you. We all care about you Mike.” Richie was hardly ever serious like this, as his jokes usually were his coping mechanisms, but Mike really appreciates his seriousness at this moment. It made him feel wanted, loved, and not alone. Like he finally belonged.  
“Thank you, Richie. It is just really hard. I wish I could be in school with you guys.” Mike’s voice was soft and steady.  
“Then let’s make it happen. I’ll talk to your grandfather. Offer that if he allows you to go to school, I’ll work here for free. I know he needs extra hands.” Richie said, proud of his idea.  
“Rich, you don’t have to do that.”  
“Nonsense, good boy, I must.” Mike looked at Richie, who seemed pretty happy about the idea of working on the farm with Mike, “Plus, we can hang out all the time.” Mike smiled.  
“You’re a great friend, Rich.” Mike mumbled.  
“Oh that is so sweet of you, dearie.” Richie said in an old lady voice as he leaned down and pressed a gross kiss to Mike’s cheek playfully. Mike wiped at his cheeks, disgusted.  
Richie’s sleeve rolled a little higher off his wrist, sporting a couple scratches and bruises on the bone of his small wrist. Before Mike could question it, Richie was playing with the bunnies.  
“It’s probably just me being dramatic.” Mike mumbled, following Richie to the bunnies.  
2 weeks later, Mike was in school and Richie was doing the job Mike struggled so hard with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	4. Chapter 4: Beverly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all, I’ve been waiting to write Beverly’s chapter because Richie is such a protective sweetie.

Chapter 4: Beverly  
Beverly had moved back a year after the battle, convincing her aunt that it would be much better for her adjustment to normal life. Now, it’s been a couple years since then, putting her and the losers at around 16-17 years olds.  
Beverly had grown curvier, her hair was at shoulder length, and she had grown into her face. But with her changes, came the males. The boys started to feel the hormones coursing through them. Thankfully, Beverly had her losers who, due to their circumstances, were less sexual towards her.   
Boys at the school watched Beverly like a hawk, undressing her with their eyes. But, due to the losers, she felt okay. She knew no one would mess with her now that Richie, Bill, and Stan all had passed 6 foot. They were a couple of the tallest boys in the school.  
Jamie Roughton was when Beverly discovered the problem. Jamie was sweet, so Beverly thought. He had dark brown hair and blue eyes and slightly tanned skin. He was tallish, at around 5’10. He would always ask Beverly for help in class.  
One day though, he started to act much different. At first, calling her sexy and whistling at her in the hall which later escalated to telling her how nice she’d look in his bed and things of a similar nature. Then, things got worse. He started to grab Bev and touch her ass.  
Beverly became increasingly uncomfortable but was too scared to tell the boys, she was embarrassed she couldn’t defend herself.   
One day, Beverly was suppose to be walking home with Bill and Ben. They were all cracking jokes walking out the school building.   
“Fuck, I forgot my English book. You guys go ahead, I’m going to grab it.” Bev said, as she waved Ben and Bill off.  
“Are you sure? We don’t mind waiting.” Ben questioned.  
“Yeah, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” She said and waved goodbye as she walked inside.  
As Bev headed into the school, she was roughly gripped and dragged into an empty classroom. The fingers were pressing so hard into her pale skin, leaving bruises when Bev tried to pull away. She was slammed against a wall, coming face to face with Jamie Roughton.  
“Well sexy, aren’t you happy to see me?” Jamie question, cocking his head slightly. Bev glared hard at him.  
“No. Let me go you-“ before she could finish, Jamie forced his lips upon hers. Quickly she turned her head. “Fuck off, asshole.” Beverly spit at him. She felt a burning sensation on her cheek and looked to see Jamie with his hand still raised from slapping her.  
Tears flooded Beverly’s eyes as his hands moved up her black skirt that her aunt insisted she wear today. Jamie’s hands forcefully pushed his fingers towards her entrance. She couldn’t fight him, throw him off, nothing.  
Anxiety began to build in her gut as he ran his fingers over top of her folds. A sob left her mouth loudly.   
Richie, who heard sobbing, approached the door of the abandoned classroom. As he opened the door, he was met with an unforgivable sight. There was Bev, his friend, pressed into a wall roughly. One hand of the attacker held her hands up the wall and the other appear to be up her skirt. She was sobbing, begging him to leave her. Richie saw red.  
Quickly approaching the attacker, Richie grabbed his shoulder and whipped him around. Richie’s closed fist met Jamie’s nose. But Richie didn’t stop there. He kept punching, his fist becoming bloodier and bloodier and Jamie’s face becoming unrecognizable. Bev quickly hauled him off, pleading for him to stop.  
“Richie, calm down.” Beverly’s voice was frantic as Richie finally stopped punching.  
“Lay one more fucking finger on her and you’ll be as good as dead. I don’t care if I go to jail, I will murder you. You are lucky Bev pulled me off, because I would have killed you. No hesitation.” Richie’s voice was venomous and scary. Thankfully, Richie stood as the tallest at 6’4 and intimidated Jamie to problem. Richie took one cheap shot, kicking Jamie in the stomach. “Get the fuck out.” He hissed as Jamie scurried out of the room, holding his destroyed nose.  
Richie quickly rushed to Bev, pulling her tightly into a hug. He withdrew suddenly, holding Beverly’s face between his bloodied hands.  
“Are you okay, Bev?” Richie questioned, looking her in the eye.  
“I’m okay, Rich. I’m okay.” Bev’s voice was weak and more tears cascaded down her cheeks. Richie pulled Beverly closer to him, pulling her face into his chest as she cried.   
“I swear, Beverly, he will not touch you ever. I promise, I swear.” Richie whispered, repeating the promises and swears over and over. “Not as long as my heart is beating.”   
After 10 minutes, Beverly spoke again.  
“Thank you, Richie. Thank you so much.” Beverly sniffled a bit and Richie smiled softly.  
“I would take a whole bullet for you, Ms. Beverly Marsh, so there is no need to thank me.” Richie kissed her on the forehead, making Bev almost cringe away.   
‘That smell,’ she though, ‘it reminds me of my dad.’ Richie’s breath seemed to be just pure alcohol.   
“Stan can walk you home. I have to go help Mike at the farm. Unless you need me.” Richie said. Beverly quickly shook her head, unsure of the anxiety she felt towards Richie.  
As Stan walked her home, Beverly managed to convince herself that Richie Tozier would never drink. He was too good for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5: Eddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one can tell me that modern day Richie Tozier wouldn’t blast Isis by Joyner Lucas.

Chapter 5: Eddie  
Eddie became paranoid and fearful after the battle. He had nightmares and cried consistently. He was scared of the dark and couldn’t seem to handle being alone.  
His thoughts are him alive, slowly. He felt weak and pathetic compared to the other losers, who seemed to be handling it much better than him. Eddie knew he wasn’t as brave as Bill, as determined as Beverly, as protective as Richie, as smart as Stan, as compassionate as Ben, or as strong as Mike. He was just weak, apathetic Eddie.   
Eddie constantly appeared to be watching over his shoulder, waiting for a new horror to be there. He was always on edge, his fight or flight instincts ready. Not to mention that he was constantly near one of the losers at almost any point in the day.  
On day, a couple months after the battle, Eddie called Richie’s home sobbing into the line.  
“Richie, I-I’m scared.” Eddie confessed into the phone as Richie stood, his head looking towards the ground and his fingers twisting around the wire.  
“You want me to come over? Will it help?” Richie asked, trying to figure out how to help. He didn’t want Eddie to feel scared, he’d already felt it enough during the battle. Eddie sniffled a bit.  
“Would it be okay?” Eddie questioned softly. “I just can’t seem to fall asleep right now and I’m frightened and I don’t like being alone.” Eddie rambled. Richie chuckled.  
“It’s okay, Eds, I’ll see you in a couple minutes, alright?” Richie replied.  
“Hey, don’t call me that. And thank you.” Eddie said, smiling when Richie called him Eds. Richie laughed loudly before hanging up the phone and throwing on his shoes.   
Richie biked fast to make sure he could help Eddie. He, as promise, got there in no time flat. He shimmied up the tree and into Eddie’s window with almost no problem. Richie was met with Eddie’s year stricken face and shaking hands. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking arms wrapped around his torso as he sobbed. Richie sat next to him, pulling him into his lap.  
“Calm down, Eddie. I’m here now and I won’t ever let anything hurt you, my Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie said, making Eddie smile as he whacked Richie’s shoulder softly. Richie chuckled. “Come on, let’s lay you down and get some sleep.” Richie laid next to him in bed, Eddie snuggling closer to him. Richie stroked Eddie’s hair and played with the light freckles across his cheeks.   
When morning came, Eddie noticed Richie was awake and was reminding him that school starts soon. But that wasn’t what caught Eddie’s attention, it was the deep purple bags appearing under Richie’s eyes.   
‘Maybe it was just from last night,’ Eddie thought, ‘he probably stayed up to make sure I was okay.’ Eddie’s reassurance seemed to calm him down as the worry eased from his mind.  
That was the first of many nights were Eddie called Richie to ease his anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	6. Chapter 6: Bill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is all the Richie angst you’ve been waiting for :)

Chapter 6: Bill  
THIS IS BEFORE THE BEVERLY CHAPTER. I KNOW THEY ARE NOT CHRONOLOGICAL. I AM SORRY.

Big Bill, Billy Boy, Bill Denbrough. No matter what they called him, everyone knew he was the brave Leader. He kept everyone safe and together. He stood for them and tried hard to make sure no one but himself got hurt. Or at least, he use to. After the battle, Bill fell from his pedestal. His protective, brave leader facade came crumbling down.   
Richie, as well as the other losers, noticed the change in the boy. His exterior seemed to be uncaring and closed off. He rarely spoke, and when he did, his stutter became much worse.   
At first, the losers weren’t happy about it. But Richie, he understood that Bill hurt and needed a break. So Richie stepped up where Bill lacked. He kept the losers together, making plans, making sure everyone was safe. If Eddie or Stan or anyone had any issues, Richie took the hit.   
All it took was Richie getting his ass beaten by Jamie and his stupid friends for everyone to realize just how bad it was.   
“Get the fuck off him!” Stan yelled, attempting to intervene. Eddie and Stan attempted to grab a couple of the boys and trying to pull them away from Richie, but it was no use as both boys were pushing away, causing them to stumble and fall.   
“Look here, faggot, you ever even look at me wrong, I’ll beat your brains in.” Jamie hissed, pulling Richie by his collar to bring his face closer.   
“Bill, please, do something.” Eddie pleaded, “Please.” But bill stood stoically, ignoring Eddie. At this point, Richie spit into Jamie’s face, a mixture of blood and saliva hitting Jamie’s tan skin.   
“Fuck you.” Richie grounded out. Richie and Jamie always had issues with one another ever since Richie made a comment about Jamie’s mom. It was always a back and forth issue.   
Jamie laid one more punch into Richie’s cheek and pushed him back, causing him to land on his ass.  
“You’re lucky, fag.” Jamie said, as he and his friends left.  
“Bill, what the fuck?!” Stan shouted, as Bill met his icy glare. “You didn’t do anything to help Richie. He could have died. Look at him. He’s covered in so much blood. You were-“   
“Stan the Man, I’ve had worse. Calm down.” Richie said, standing up. “I’m okay.” Richie brought his hand up and wiped the blood from under his nose. He slowly began to approach Bill. “Man, I know it’s hard losing Georgie and dealing with all those emotions, but don’t give up on us yet. We can only go so long without our fearless leader. We need you, Bill.” Richie said, leaning so only Bill could hear him. He gripped Bill’s shoulders softly.   
Bill stared at Richie, a mixture of anger and guilt clogging his heart. He stared at his closest friend who had blood covering some of his face. Richie never let Bill do anything alone, following Bill to hell and back. And even now, Richie wasn’t mad at Bill for not helping him.   
“R-R-Richie, I am s-sorry.” Bill stuttered out, feeling the guilt get to him.  
“Don’t worry, Bill. I don’t mind stepping up until you feel ready.” Richie’s words made Bill realize how much Richie had grown. Sure, he was still a loud, Trashmouth with an attitude of his own, but he also became more caring, more protective. He had changed.   
“I’m ready, Rich.” Bill whispered, “I’m sorry for all of this. I should have let you do anything alone. I shouldn’t have closed you all out. It was just hard to find meaning in a lot of things after I lost...I lost Georgie.” Bill didn’t stutter, much to Richie’s surprise. Richie quickly pulled Bill into a hug.  
“You aren’t alone, Bill. We all went through it. And though he wasn’t my brother biologically, I feel I grew up with you long enough to count him as my sibling.” Richie said, “Just keep in mind, we can help.”   
“Are you okay?” Bill questioned, looking at Richie’s split lip and bloodied nose.  
“Yeah, as I said, I have had worse.” Richie said, smiling and turning to leave. “I’ve miss you, Big Bill.” Bill felt his heart warm up at Richie’s last words but felt anxiety and worry grow in the pit of his stomach.  
What did he mean that he has had worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	7. Chapter 7: The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end. I want to start a new story and I have 2 ideas. I’ll be writing one of them soon. They’re both pertaining to It, particularly Richie and Eddie characters.

Chapter 7: The Return  
The losers weren’t stupid, they knew Richie wasn’t okay, not completely, but it took them a couple years to realize the depth of it. After the issue with Jamie, Beverly had questions.  
“Guys, do you think Richie is okay?” Bev said, getting weird or blank looks from the group, “Like, I know he isn’t okay-okay, but do you think something is weird about how he’s acting?” She tried again, delving deeper.  
“I think he’s doing better than us.” Eddie mumbled bitterly.  
“I’m only asking because I swear I smelt alcohol on him not that long ago.” Bev’s words caught everyone’s attention, causing a mixture of gasps and sharp intakes.  
“No, he’d never d-“ Stan started but Bev stopped him.  
“Old Richie wouldn’t have, but do we know anything about the new one?”  
“Richie hasn’t changed that much, Beverly.” Bill said, refusing to accept this.  
“We’ve all changed, Bill. You still have issues letting us in, Eddie can’t sleep, Stan’s insecure, Mike has dependency problems, Ben can’t go near the library alone, and I...I can’t go near men.” Beverly looked away at her last words, “We have all changed, so why can’t Richie? He was here for us but never once did we think Trashmouth Tozier could have been affected by the battle. He masked his trauma.”  
“He isn’t sleeping.” Eddie is the first to talk, barely above a whisper. “I tried to deny it because I could believe that Richie was having any issues. He seemed so strong.”  
“I noticed burn marks on his hands, right at the base of his palm and up his wrist.” Stan mumbled, eye trained on the floor. “I thought it was just a Richie thing, but looking back, I should have been concerned.”  
“He’s thin. I could feel his bones when I hugged him one time.” Ben’s words caused Eddie to look away and sniffle some.  
“He has bruises and scratches on his arms. I didn’t think much of it, since he’s so clumsy but...it seems strange.” Mike said, closing his eyes.  
“He’s fine. If he was hurting, he’d tell us.” Bill tried reasoning. He didn’t want to believe he had failed Rich like he had Georgie.  
“Come on, Bill, you noticed something.” Bev pushed.  
“After that fight with Jamie, he said he has worse. The words never felt right.” Bill caved with a sigh.  
“Come on, we need to talk to Richie.” Bev declared. So off the losers went, into the crisp autumn air on a Saturday afternoon.  
As they approached Richie’s home, Bev barged in. She decided that she wanted to see the real Richie, not the facade he puts up. As the door swings open, they come face to face with a battered Richie Tozier.  
An unlit cigarette hung from his mouth, which has blood either from the split in his lip or the gushing from his nose. He stood frozen, staring at the losers as they took in his appearance. He was wearing a dark tee and some light colored joggers. His thin arms were coated with scratches and bruises. Stan could make out the small burns from a cigarette trailing his arms.  
“What the fuck?” Richie asked, finally unfreezing. He had deep bags under his eyes. He was shaking and the losers were shocked he could hold himself up.  
“Richie, what happened?” Beverly questioned, moving forward only for Richie to step backwards.  
“Nothing happened, I’m fine. Leave.” Richie demanded, anger overtaking his features as he seethed.  
“No.” Eddie’s soft, but strong voice cut through. Richie’s face became void of any anger, as his eyes met Eddie’s. “Damn it Richie, you’re such a hypocrite. You told all of us that we weren’t alone and that we were all here for each other while you hid from everyone. We could have helped.” Eddie’s voice was accusatory and Richie felt guilt begin to fill his heart.  
“I didn’t need help. I knew you all had your own issues so I just remained here. I’m fine, you know, it just looks worse.” Richie threw on a small smile, trying to fake his way out of it. And the losers would have bought it at any other point, but not now.  
“Richie, we love you. We want to help.” Ben tried to reason.  
“I don’t deserve it.” Richie said with a shrug as he lit his cigarette and took a drag.  
“Richard Tozier, I don’t care if you deserve it or not, we want to help.” Stan’s authoritative voice rang through the room, causing Richie to flinch slightly. Then he chuckled darkly.  
“So, guess everything’s out. What gave it away?”  
“Hardly anything. You were good at hiding it.” Bill said, catching Richie’s attention. “Scary good, really. It took too long for us to put the pieces together. It must have been lonely, struggling for so long alone.” Bill said, and Richie’s eyes welled with tears.  
“After the battle, I...I didn’t feel as okay. I couldn’t sleep without nightmares. I was so anxious that I couldn’t eat properly. It really shouldn’t have impacted me this but it did. Soon, I just began staying up as much as possible to avoid the nightmares, I stopped bothering.  
One night, things were harder. My dad had never been kind, as you can see,” Richie gestured to his bloodied face, “and I found his cigarettes. I thought ‘Hey, he says they help him. Maybe they’ll help me.’ So I tried, and it worked. It numbed and calmed my anxiety. I started smoking regularly, but eventually, the effect wore off. So, in desperation, I began smoking more and more trying to rid my anxiety. Nothing seemed to ease it and it led me into a...a panic attack of sorts. I didn’t know what I was doing, I wasn’t thinking. I started clawing at my skin and...it kept me grounded. It reminded me that I’m here and I’m fine. I would pinch myself and leave bruises. I just needed a reminder. I needed to know that I didn’t die there, that I’m here. I needed to know I was alive.” Richie traced the scratches lightly. “But it progressed to any time I felt the slightest worry. Just the slightest feeling of panic and I scratched to calm down. Then, I found alcohol. It helped me forget and to pass out into a dreamless sleep. It made some things easier for me. I felt like the old Richie. I’m sorry, Bev. I know that I made you uncomfortable because of it that day. I’m sorry to have worried all of you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Richie’s nails met his skin aggressively clawing, “I just wanted to protect you guys. Help you guys. I’m sorry.” The losers took a minute to act, Bill finally approaching Richie. He timidly grabbed Richie’s wrist.  
“You did, Rich. You helped us all. More than we can probably admit.” Eddie was the one to speak, knowing he could probably quickly calm down Richie. “We want to help you now. It’ll make us feel better.” Richie sniffled.  
“Really?”  
The losers wrapped around Richie, hugging him. Eddie grabbed the cigarette and put it out.  
“I’m sorry we were so blind.” Bev said, after a minute.  
“I wanted it hidden. I wanted to be brave. I didn’t want to lose my friends over it.” Richie wiped the blood from his face and shrugged, “but I guess I didn’t have much to worry about.” Richie wanted them to stay. He didn’t want to be lonely. “Do you guys want to watch some movies? I have some popcorn in the cabinet.” The losers all grinned widely and nodded, happy to just see some of the old Richie back.

So all in all, the losers changed, nothing ever became the same. Eddie still had nightmares. He still have Richie sleep in the bed with him on bad nights. Stan was still covering his scars, must to The losers dismay. Ben couldn’t go to the library alone, usually needing the company of the losers. Beverly still got nervous around men, and constantly relied on the losers to protect her. Bill had moments where he didn’t want to be the leader, and Richie stepped up where Bill couldn’t. Mike has issues with being alone, but the losers were there every step of the way. Richie continued to smoke and have his panic filled moments, but he had the losers to calm him down. No, they were the same 7 losers. They had issues, fears, troubles. But they stuck through it, helping each other and being there for one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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